Allure of the Void
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Ident key XK/970 accepted Message sent from ''' '''Thought for the day: Between the stars the ancient unseen enemies of mankind wait and hunger. Every voyage into the nothing is a confrontation with horror, with the implacable things of the warp, and with man's own innermost fears. ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Registration at Kar Duniash Segmentum Fortress #35813S to Highdown Rogue Trader Dynasty ' '''Date first commissioned: '??? '''Date recommissioned: 595.451.M41 History The Allure is a unique vessel, custom built to the whims of some long-dead personage of great wealth thousands of years ago. Its exact origins are uncertain, but the ship’s archivists believe that it was constructed in orbit around Mars, most probably late in The Forging, circa M34. This spatial portion of this postulate is founded primarily on the close match of its plasma drive to that of many cruisers constructed by the fabricators of Mars in M32 until early M35, although it is not impossible that the engine was retrofitted in later by a tech magos of uncommon skill, or that the drive was copied by another forge world. The temporal component of the postulate is better founded, with vague scraps of Imperial records recording the vessel being involved in minor fleet combat actions in late M34, and alluding to the vessel being quite new at the time. Further evidence gathered by tech priests who have served aboard the ship - ancient spare parts and lost code fragments - corroborates this dating. Little is known of the early voyages of the Allure, but circumstantial evidence does suggest that it was owned by a Rogue Trader family of fantastic wealth and great prestige, the name of which is lost to time. Archaeological investigation of the ship’s armour has revealed many long-since repaired instances of damage likely suffered during these early centuries, some of which do not match any known Imperial or Xenos armaments. What is known is that, sometime during the Age of Apostasy, c.M36, the Allure fell from the skies of a backwater planet called planetnamehere. The cause is not known, but the Allure’s crew performed with exemplary skill under the circumstances and managed to successfully “land” the city-sized armed mansion-fortress without dashing the hull apart. There it lay, unmoving for millennia to come. During this time, the surviving crew spread out and, gradually, the Skaven took over. Design The Allure of the Void is an ancient vessel and it hides endless secrets of lost engineering concepts deep within its countless electromechanical systems. Though thoroughly refitted after being raised from its earthy grave, the Allure’s lustre is tarnished thanks to millennia of being embedded in a planet followed by subsequent centuries of maintenance by tech priests lacking the vision required to adequately maintain, let alone fully restore, all of its potent archaeotech systems. Nevertheless more than enough such systems still function, drawing considerable interest from the Adeptus Mechanicus (and significant consternation each time their overtures to inspect the ship are rebuffed). Typical of the Ambition class vessels, if any craft of such rarefied design can be considered typical, the Allure is simultaneously a pleasure craft and a warship. In its current guise it is also typical of a Rogue Trader vessel - outfitted for long-term exploration and endless flexibility. Neither of these schools of ship design heavily value the highly redundant systems, extra armour plating, and structural reinforcements that would be typical on a naval ship, making the Allure somewhat physically vulnerable in comparison to the cruisers of the Imperium, and even certain light cruisers. Yet the physical weakness of the Allure belies its strengths in other areas; it would be easy to dismiss the apparently ponderous and fragile craft as dainty relic but, in spite of the damage sustained in its storied past, it is quite remarkably agile and deadly. The plasma drive at its heart burns hot and fast thanks to forgotten wonders of technology, allowing the Allure to glide gracefully through the void on small but brilliant bursts of purple-white plasma. It can outrun almost any cruiser in Battlefleet Ultima and keeps pace with most light cruiser patterns, even managing to keep pace with destroyers in the hands of a capable crew. In normal operation the ship is respectably nimble for a being of such bulk, but its millennia spent trapped within the surly bonds of gravity seem to have had a long-lasting effect on its gravimetric guidance systems, giving it a predilection for manoeuvring within gravity wells. Within a planet’s orbit, the Allure is capable of astounding feats of agility in the hands of a solid pilot. Beneath all the exterior gilt and statuery lies the plasma heart and machine soul of a void-cold killer. A brief scan will reveal the two las-battery broadsides; rows of ancient laser cannons that put a Shadowsword to shame. The barrels protrude a hundred metres from the ship, each bristling with cooling conduits and baroque radiator fins. Inside, ancient grinding mechanisms adjust the guns to acquire a firing solution and colossal capacitor banks dump unimaginable quantities of energy into the lasers’ exotic excitation media. Automated cooling mechanisms, long since degraded, are driven by vast hand-pumps that require scores of crewmembers to operate. These are solid long-range weapons that enable the Allure to snipe enemies from a distance, potentially outside of sensor range, but like many aspects of the ship these cannons perform as shadows of their former selves. Fortunately the Allure counts among its crew an engineer of peerless ability with a passion for meddling with forgotten and powerful technology. Perhaps unsurprisingly, the true danger of the Allure is less blatant than these coherent light culverins. Less obvious, but still hardly subtle, are the hangars situated aft of each of the las batteries. They have housed countless small craft over the centuries and currently squadrons of lethal Fury Interceptors and Starhawk Bombers are nestled in their launch cradles, alongside a panoply of miscellaneous craft that enable everything from stealthy insertions via Gun Cutter to full invasions via Devourer Dropship and Halo Barge. The Furies and Starhawks allow the Allure to project power far beyond its immediate vicinity, chasing pirates out of asteroid fields far more easily than a cruiser could on its own, or delivering transatmospheric air support missions that offer massively greater precision than an orbital strike. The three less obvious tricks up the Allure’s faded velvet sleeves are its teleportarium, its murder servitors, and its weird ass Skaven shit. The first two are self-evident: a fully-functioning and remarkably reliable machine capable of transporting goods and people across tens of thousands of kilometres near-instantaneously; and a cadre of deranged bio-engineered killing machines capable of ripping opponents to shreds while under heavy fire. Each superb on its own, and even better when combined. The Skaven shit is less easily explained. During the millennia that saw the Allure languishing on dry land, the Skaven who had settled in the ship began altering its interior to suit their needs. Whole deck sections got removed and replaced with habitation more to their liking; new corridors were pioneered all throughout the ship enabling them to scurry around secretively; and, most curious of all, they began to integrate Warpstone into the body of the noble vessel. Appearance Its exterior is sublimely curved and covered in embellishments of exquisite detail that speak of the Emperor’s great deeds and those of a thousand early Imperial saints. It lacks the level of gothic exuberance that characterises more modern Imperial capital ships, looking almost like a sleek raider vessel from afar, indistinct shapes adorning its hull. When viewed at closer range, however, one can make out its majestic exterior decoration, the beauty of which is lauded by adherents of the Imperial creed the segmentum over. Stained armourglass windows leer over its bristling laser batteries, glowing with brilliant multicoloured lights each time one of the ancient weapons is turned loose. Cyclopean bas reliefs of angelic choirs encircle the monumental hangar bay openings, playing silent fanfares into the void to herald the arrival and departure of craft. The figurehead (a solemn angel of death, head bowed in prayer, wrought nearly a kilometre tall and clad in intricately engraved platinum) stands proud and spotless thanks to the ship’s repulsor field. Time has not been so kind to the interior of the vessel, burdened as it is by the messy biological detritus and physical abuse delivered by its crew. Inside, it is a faded glory; a spectre of obscene wealth long squandered. Broadly, the interior of the ship can be divided into five zones. Their titles describe the function more than the actual physical location; many of the “upper decks” are located towards the heart of the vessel for protection, for example: # Upper decks ## Command and control facilities and accommodations for the senior crew # Mid decks ## Where the bulk of the human crew resides and works - engineering, weapon decks, crew berths, etc. # Lower decks # Bilges # Skaven regions ## Metastasised throughout the entire vessel - the dominion of the Skaven, from tiny crawl-ways to vast chambers hidden by years of deceptive construction Empty, servitors clattering Obviously not naval - defensive architecture is more subtle Pillars as cover Staircases as strongpoints Archways as checkpoints Upper decks The portions of the ship frequented by those of high rank are kept in good condition, albeit still clearly showing long centuries of wear and tear. Furnishings and art are everywhere and were of the highest quality in their day, but have languished for half a millennium since the ship’s restoration. Sculptures hastily repaired and remodelled now resemble grotesque caricatures of those they once faithfully portrayed; mosaics are set at odd angles, making their images distractingly flawed; furniture creaks and sags when used, worn threadbare in places. ''' '''Much of the upper decks are strictly out of bounds for regular crewmembers or visitors, and are kept in a constant state of vigilance at the direction of Cornelius and his security apparatus. Cleaning servitors clatter around, performing their duties with a mindless determination and concealing sensor gear to provide constant surveillance. Skaven watch for trouble from hidden spy holes, with orders to raise a silent alert if interlopers are discovered. The physical security design is not that of a warship, lacking the daunting checkpoints and looming bunkers covering main thoroughfares. Instead more subtle architecture and decoration serve as defence in case of boarding actions against the vessel. Decorative pillars feature reinforced ferrocrete cores so as to provide cover; grand staircases are designed so as to offer fire points with commanding views over key choke-points; majestic archways are fitted with plasteel bulkheads that can be swiftly closed via hydraulic pistons to deny boarders a seemingly easy advance. * Senior officers quarters * Teleportarium Mid decks Crew decks are lively showcases of a dozen separate cultures, with designated areas for voidfarers of certain backgrounds, the ever-shifting boundaries of which are occasionally cause for discontent. The Luddites hold by far the largest section, the grand corridors lined with folksy markets, horses trotting across uneven onyx tiles, the smell of leather curing, and smoked meats hanging from crumbling statues. These decks, along with other main working areas, truly show their age. Vast galleries lined with cracked marble, crumbling wood panelling, and gold fixtures long since stolen by untrustworthy ratings. Lower decks The dingy depths of the ship have given up all semblance of grandeur. Crumbling frescoes caked in soot, grime, and sweat. Bare ferrocrete floors, their marble tiles long since used as impromptu building materials or sold off in some starport. Bilges The dark depths of the parts of the ships walled out of the grandeur of the ship and pushed into the superstructure spaces, populated by the ghilliams, the feral mutants of the dark spaces beyond the radiation shielding. Among the ghilliams are the ratspeakers, tribes who worship the skaven as the messengers of gods roaming in the shadows. Skaven regions Machine spirit THOUSANDS OF RATS Important locations Onboard Bridge The core chamber of the bridge is a cathedral precisely 100m long, 40m wide, and 50m at the highest point of the vaulted ceiling (think Grace Cathedral in SF). It is nestled in the centre of the great spire, surrounded by antichambers and operations facilities on three sides, with the fore section featuring an expansive armourglass-protected view across the ship. Five metre thick adamantine blast doors close during combat to protect the bridge, with massive manually operated hydraulic pistons that serve to open the doors should the sensors be damaged. Tasteful marble columns and panelling adorn the walls and an inspiring, if somewhat cracked, fresco covers the ceiling. Tattered velvet curtains cover portions of the upper walls, where cherubim nest, occasionally swooping down to perform some arcane maintenance operation, inevitably harassing the crew in the process. The ground level is filled with human crew scurrying hither and thither and servitors hard-wired into cogitator stations, the thunk of myriad pneumatic message tubes intermittently synchronising with the crew’s sussuration to produce a transient rhythm of activities. The main function of the lower crew is to gather and collate data from internal and external sensors, reports, garbled pleas for help, etc. The data is then passed up to the mezzanine level to be actioned. Several dozen traffic controllers sit in the centre of the floor, arranged in rows in front of banks of monitors detailing small craft operations, taking orders from above and advising pilots in flight. Twenty metres above the scurry of activity below, the main commanding is conducted. A 5m wide balcony surrounds the edge of the chamber lined with high-level readouts and viewscreens, cloisters dedicated to specific system operations (engines, weapons, etc.), doors to discreet strategiums and private relaxation chambers, a fully stocked bar, and several luxurious couches. The largest single display is a vast board suspended from the ceiling with an airport announcement board style report of the status of all small craft squadrons, with dozens of secondary monitors showing monochrome footage from pilots’ gun-mounted pict recorders. In the centre of the room is a circular platform, 15m in diameter, connected to the balconies by suspended walkways. This is the nervecentre of battle, featuring a (somewhat unreliable) hololithic tank and seating sufficient for all the senior crew around the tank. Command systems on the platform are optimised for relaying data regarding attack craft disposition, and the hololith tank excels at displaying a three-dimensional battlemap with detailed assessments of small craft attack plans. At the fore extremity of the upper level, with a commanding view of the entire bridge and out the main windows, the balcony bulges out to accommodate the Captain’s throne and the pilot’s enclosure pit. A laud hailer is built into the opulent throne, enabling the Captain to bellow at crew all over the bridge should the inbuilt vox system fail. Navigator Spire Teleportarium A great dais of pure blue crystal dominates the centre of the large chamber, a short ramp leading up it. Above the dais is a hemisphere of thousands of brass cylinders pointing inwards, the cylinders all connected with miles of intricate cabling projecting towards the domed ceiling. When activated, the hemisphere slowly lowers and begins to crackle with pale blue energy that fills the chamber with the odour of ozone and leaves persistent after images on the retina. The wiring connects to rows of cogitator banks and terminals sat around the room, their screens lit up in full-colour, providing endless technical data to the servitors and tech-priests who operate the venerable contraption. Spatial data is fed into the cogitators from the ship’s sensors, the tech priests commune with the machine spirit to develop a stable bubble of energy comparable to a gellar field, and with a blinding flash of light the contents of the dais is shunted momentarily into the warp, appearing at the designated locale before the field collapses and the contents are dumped out into reality with a nauseating jolt. Arboretum A mix of pleasure gardens and agri systems. Lovely soft light suffuses the vast, vaulted chambers and fragrant plants are expertly maintained, providing a pleasant recreation and meeting location for senior staff. The hydroponic grow facilities, artfully hidden from the most picturesque areas, provide nutrient-rich and eminently palatable foodstuffs that supplement the crew’s meals, affording them the occasional luxury of food that can be reasonably described as edible. This is also home to Yeoman, at least when he isn’t wandering around tinkering with shit. Cornelius’ quarters Located a couple of decks below the bridge, adjacent to Highdown’s suite. Kept under very tight security, with access typically only granted to servitors, which are subject to an unusual degree of scrutiny to minimise risk of tampering. Engineering decks The Laboratorium dominates this region of the ship, not so much in size as in activity and focus. Here is where Niko resides. Skaven Dens The Bilge-Rat’s Berth Speakeasy style bar located behind a nondescript bulkhead down a conveniently forgotten corridor situated in the midship decks. Decked in faded grandeur befitting the ship’s history - plush but worn out velvet seats, stained glass panelling with unreliable backlighting, and a bottle of fine amasec in a case behind the bar. The amasec is rumoured to date back to the Age of Apostasy; the bottle might, but the crew are wont to drink it every time a truly severe warp storm is encountered, then quietly refill it when the empyrean squall calms. The bar is frequented by many of the ship’s junior officers and senior NCOs. Plus Cornelius, in disguise of course. An air of camaraderie and a tradition of disregarding rank pervades the bar - qualities that make it useful for gauging the crew’s mood. Observation dome One main viewing platform for officers located on rear spire just fore of navigator’s tower, offering commanding sightlines over much of the ship and an almost totally unobstructed view of the void above. Unusually the Allure also features multi-kilometre long viewing galleries of diamondoid armourglass among the upper crew areas, allowing regular voidfarers in good standing to look out across the stars and gaze upon wondrous astrological phenomena, planets to be conquered, and friendly vessels joining in the Allure’s voyage across the galaxy. Category:Voidships Category:House Highdown assets Category:Capital Ships Category:Vehicles